


Come Home to Me

by ami_ven



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, maybe? - Freeform, post-First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Focus on <i>my</i> voice, Charles, on <i>my</i> mind.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Home to Me

When he saw Charles slump sideways in his wheelchair, Erik felt as though time had stopped. For a moment, he thought it _had_ , that Charles had used his telepathy to mentally freeze everyone. Then, another explosion rocked the building and it seemed that everything sped up again.

But Charles didn’t move. He had both hands over his temples as though he was trying to block out something— or someone— and was failing. Erik was still wearing the telepathy-blocking helmet, so he would remain unaffected, but he didn’t think it could be another telepath. None of the other mutants appeared to be affected, only Charles, whose face clouded with pain.

Charles’s students, his ‘X-Men’, were still fighting the security forces of the bio-tech labs— far too numerous and well-trained for a legitimate company— not exactly working with his Brotherhood, but clearly not fighting against them, either.

Erik levitated a chunk of rebar-reinforced concrete to absorb a spray of bullets aimed at Mystique and Havok, then glanced back at Charles.

The telepath had curled in on himself, still clutching his temples. He let out a gasp, like a stifled cry, then said, pleading, “Erik!”

Erik’s resolve crumbled as though it had never existed. It had been over a year since he had heard Charles say his name, despite the numerous times their two groups and come into conflict, and it sent an ache through his heart that he could not ignore. He was moving before he realized he was going to, dodging combatants to reach his friend.

“Charles?” he said.

“So many voices,” said Charles, half-sobbing. “Too many. Everyone, all at once. I can’t keep them out. _Please_ , Erik!”

Erik didn’t even think. He knelt in front of the wheelchair, tossing the helmet carelessly behind him. “Charles,” he said, again. “You can’t listen to them. You must ignore them. Focus on _my_ voice, Charles, on _my_ mind.”

“I can’t,” Charles gasped. “I promised. Promised I wouldn’t—”

“Damn your promises,” snapped Erik. He slid his fingers around Charles’s wrists, feeling his too-rapid pulse, and leaned their foreheads together. “I give you permission, Charles, is that what you need to hear?”

“I can’t,” the telepath breathed. _You’ll hate me._

“I could _never_ hate you,” said Erik, shocked. “Read my mind, Charles. Focus on that and nothing else.”

He had always been able to feel the touch of Charles’s mind, like the warmth of sunlight after a lifetime of darkness. Erik almost gasped at the first hesitant touch, only just skimming the surface of his mind.

_Please, Charles_ , he thought.

Erik closed his eyes as the warmth of Charles’s mind spread deeper, soaking into every corner of his own. He took a deep breath and opened his mental doorways, one by one, letting Charles in. He hesitated at the last barrier, the one that began with a submarine and ended at a beach in Cuba, then took another breath and flung it open.

_My mind, Charles_ , he thought, still feeling the overwhelmed swirl of the other man’s mind. _Focus on my mind. There is no one else but you and I_.

_If that were only so, my friend_ , said Charles’s mental voice, strained but clear.

_Why would you truly want such a thing?_ Erik thought, before he could stop himself.

_Oh, Erik_ , thought Charles, and he opened his own mind fully to their link.

Erik had expected pity, disappointment, lingering resentment, even outright hatred, but what Charles sent instead was _love_. Not infatuation or attraction, but a deep and enduring affection that made Erik gasp.

“How can you feel this way for me?” he breathed, aloud. “After everything I’ve done to you?”

He hadn’t even thought of the pain it would cause Charles to hold Shaw as Erik killed him, only the first betrayal to happen that day, before the bullet that took Charles’s mobility and the departure that took Charles’s sister from him.

_The heart has reasons that reason knows not_ , Charles thought, and Erik huffed out a shaky laugh that he could still quote ridiculous things at a time like this. _Perhaps I—_

With their minds joined, Erik could feel Charles’s pain as the voices pressed more insistently against his mind, like rough waves battering the shore. He tightened his grip on Charles’s wrists, tight enough to bruise, but Charles seemed to relax, just a fraction, beneath his touch.

_Charles!_ he thought, frantically. Erik wasn’t a telepath, he couldn’t move through Charles’s mind the way the other man could through his, so he simply projected as much as he could— anger, guilt, love, fear— until the telepathic roar subsided.

_There is a machine_ , thought Charles. _I can sense it now. A crude facsimile of Cerebro, meant to overwhelm any telepath by broadcasting everything, indiscriminately..._

Erik didn’t wait for him to finish. He followed Charles’s thoughts, sensing the humming metal of moving parts and crushed it with indelicate speed.

The machine crumpled in on itself, but it let out a final blast of psychic energy and Charles cried out in pain.

_Charles?_ asked Erik. “Charles, what can I do?”

_Anything_ , Charles replied. “Erik—”

Erik had ignored that pleading voice once before, and he would not make that mistake again. Leaning up, he slid his hands flat over Charles’s on the other man’s temples, tilting his head to the proper angle, and kissed him.

There was a roaring in his ears that was partly the noise from the false Cerebro in Charles’s head and partly the sound of his own pounding heartbeat.

Then, there was a sudden, equally-roaring silence, except for the gentle hum of Charles’s mind against his own. Slowly, Erik opened his eyes to find Charles looking back at him, blue eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” he said, throat dry. How many unforgivable lines would he cross with this man? “I should—”

Erik was still on his knees in front of the wheelchair, and he began to get to his feet, searching blindly behind him for the helmet, only to freeze at the touch of Charles’s fingers on his cheek.

“Please don’t,” said Charles, softly. “That damnable helmet has already been the cause of too many misunderstandings between us.”

“Misunderstandings?” Erik repeated, fingers closing around the cold metal. “Do enlighten me, Charles.”

He had intended to sound disdainful and unconcerned, and missed by a very wide margin. Charles pretended not to notice.

“Firstly,” he said, with a soft smile, “why you think I should be disgusted by something I have wanted for quite a long time.”

Erik looked up sharply. “Charles?”

“We _do_ want the same things, Erik,” said Charles. “It’s only our methods that are different, and I… I cannot entirely condemn your ways.”

“Can’t you, Charles? I kill people.”

“I know, my friend. But have I ever truly tried to stop you?”

“Charles—” Erik began, but the other man was right. He’d persuaded and argued against it, but never actually stopped him. “Charles…”

“And I have asked myself why,” the telepath continued, “only to arrive at a single conclusion. I allow you to kill, Erik, because I am too much of a coward to do it myself.”

“ _Charles_ ,” said Erik again, bringing one hand to cover the one still on his cheek. “You are the bravest man I have ever known.”

He could still feel the warmth of Charles’s mind beside his own and reached out, projecting his memories, beginning with the day Charles jumped into the ocean to save a stranger and ending with the first time he had seen Charles in his wheelchair and known that he was finally irredeemable. 

_No one is irredeemable, my friend_ , said Charles’s voice in his head. _Least of all you. Come home_.

Erik shivered involuntarily. Home had always been his parents’ house, lost a lifetime ago. But, somehow, without him realizing it, home had become a person— this person.

“I can’t, Charles,” he said, hoarsely. “There is still so much to do. And after that, you may feel differently—”

“My feelings for you haven’t changed, Erik, not even when you deflected a bullet into my spine,” said Charles, then softened at the sudden spike of guilt that flashed through their link. “No, I didn’t mean that. I mean, finish what you must, Erik. Then come home to me.”

Erik didn’t even try to answer. He just leaned in to kiss Charles again, saying everything he needed to in a way that he could understand, even if he hadn’t been a telepath.

*

Six months later, Charles felt a familiar presence at the back of his mind. Grinning, he wheeled himself to the top of the front steps of the mansion, watching the group of people approach down the long driveway.

“Hello, Charles,” said Erik, stopping a few yards away.

“My friend,” the other man replied. 

Raven snorted and moved to hug her brother, then introduced the two new mutants they had recently found, a skittish teenage boy and a slightly older woman with fading bruises on her arms and on her knuckles.

There was a pause as Charles’s students faced the now-former-Brotherhood, then Alex held out his hand to Raven, who smiled and hugged him, too. All trying to talk at once, they headed inside, leaving Charles and Erik alone on the front steps.

“Are you going to ask me what I have been doing since the last time we spoke?” asked Erik.

Charles shook his head. “What’s done is done. The more important question is, what will you do now?”

Erik didn’t move any closer. “We are still very different, Charles.”

“Yes, we are,” he agreed. “But have always worked much better as a team. Imagine what we can do as more than that.”

“More?” asked Erik.

Charles ducked his head. “Perhaps I had presumed… that kiss…”

With a snort of laughter, Erik crossed the distance between them to pull Charles in for another one, both of his hands braced on the arms of the wheelchair, both of Charles’s tangled in his hair.

“Yes, that kiss,” said Charles, breathless, when they broke for air. “Although, I’m afraid I must now make a confession.”

Erik pulled away slowly, almost sure that Charles wasn’t about to break his heart after the way he responded to the kiss, but not sure enough that he didn’t worry. “What?”

“Although Raven’s— ah, Mystique’s— room is as it has always been, the room you had been occupying was damaged in a storm a few weeks ago. Broken windows, a bit of water damage, nothing serious. But I’ve never found the time to have it properly repaired. And with our new arrivals, and certain renovations we’ve been making around the house… well. The children are doing excellent work, but there simply won’t be enough beds. It’s inconvenient, I’m sure, but for the time being, you’ll just have to share mine.

A slow smile spread across Erik’s face, turning into a genuine laugh. “Charles Xavier, that was the worst pick-up line I have ever heard!”

Charles just smiled at him. “Yes, but did it work?”

“Of course it worked, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Groovy.” Charles took Erik’s hand and tugged him into another kiss. “Welcome home, Erik.”

THE END


End file.
